


On the Job

by saucytuggles



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), F/M, Flash Fic, Gang War, Internal Conflict, Mafia hit, Tora is a Crack Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucytuggles/pseuds/saucytuggles
Summary: Takes place after Episode 36 - What if we went with Tora on his job for Vincent to take out the four Nine Daggers generals?Whew - this is the first Tiger Bite story where I managed to do a whole story, beginning-middle-end, in 500 words. It was like writing a haiku and I learned a lot. I hope you like it!
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59
Collections: Tiger Bites





	On the Job

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic is part of the Tiger Bites collection. I don't think AO3 lets you subscribe to a collection, darn it, but here's the link:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Tiger_Bites
> 
> The purpose of the collection is to do tiny, frequent MPL/AB fics to give everybody little shots of Narin to get us through the post-first season MPL hiatus. (See "profile" on the Tiger Bites page.) Also anyone can submit tiny fics to Tiger Bites, so feel free to add one!

Tiger Bites

On the Job

A Midnight Poppy Land Flash Fic by Saucy Tuggles

He stretched his legs with small movements, contracting and relaxing his thigh muscles, flexing each foot, up, down. The smell of the tar and gravel rooftop irritated him. Again he lifted his jacket against the wind, ducked his head to light up, concealing the brief flare from all eyes. 

Tora held his position. Had Vincent given him more time to plan, he would have found an indoor position as primary, kept this rooftop as backup. As the minutes turned to hours, he strained to stay focused and alert.

Light streamed from the third floor windows of the Narin Palace Hotel. The charity gala was packed with the wealthy, auctioning off some jazz guy’s piano and posing for the cameras. Tora tilted his head, peering through his scope.

His targets wove through the reception area like colors in a painting. The first shot would break glass. It would be hell to get clean shots after that. 

Tora centered his crosshairs against a point behind Target One’s ear. The sensitive optics in his scope showed him where the barber’s clippers had missed a few hairs on the slope of the target’s neck. 

He checked his turret dials, compensating for bullet drop and wind velocity. He visualized each kill in advance to negate the shock felt when a living body disintegrated under your hand. The shards of bone, the carcass falling. Sometimes taking a step as they fell. A face shot was the worst, their eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses widened as the bullet pierced their brain. Some wore colored contacts, or false lashes, but the eyes all held the same expression in the end--surprise. Their life dreams would remain formless. Feelings would not be declared. Degrees forever unearned, forgiveness never given. The shock in the target’s eyes would spread throughout their closest circle, and the burdens of a life would fall on them. 

Tora shook his head. His cigarette had burnt down, he spat it out. He had no business thinking like this. Stick to the engagement sequence. He remembered his training. _“You are an extension of this rifle. Nothing more. No feeling, no questions. You are the trigger_ that _other men pull. You do only what the weapon does. You kill.”_

The four targets were finding seats for the auction. The moment approached. He recalculated conditions. Strong wind. Bullet performance after breaching the exterior glass would be acceptable. 

Tora marked their relative positions, planned the order of shots. The auction began, his window opened. He sighted Target One. Inhaled. 

Target One leaned into the woman next to him. She turned to him and laughed. Light glinted off the diamonds in her ears. Tora focused his attention. No nonsense now. 

Target One’s mouth curved in a smile. His hand lifted. Time slowed down as he softly tucked a strand of the woman’s auburn hair behind her ear. 

Tora’s jaw clenched. _I am more than this fucking rifle_. He lowered his crosshairs to Target One’s shoulder and pulled the trigger. 


End file.
